


'Twas In The Moon Of Wintertime

by MaryS (Duffydog)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27897847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duffydog/pseuds/MaryS
Summary: Post-Endgame, and Chakotay has joined Kathryn for Christmas at her family home.
Relationships: Chakotay & Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	'Twas In The Moon Of Wintertime

_The title is taken from a Canadian Christmas hymn, known as the Huron Carol, which was written c. 1642 by Father Jean de Brebeuf. Not only is it a favourite of mine but it seemed to fit this story very well._

_Many thanks to Vanhunks for a quick beta._

_Written Spring 2020_

It was a clear night, the sky filled with thousands of stars while below the land lay frozen, bare branches of trees poking the night sky, every sound muffled by a heavy carpet of snow, glistening in the light of a full moon.

Kathryn peered out the window, staring at the familiar landscape which she had often wondered if she would ever see again. And yet here she was – home – the familiar smells of her mother’s Christmas baking wafting out of the kitchen.

With a contented sigh, she turned when a warm hand rested on her shoulder.

“Feel like you’re home now?” asked Chakotay, his face creased in a smile.

Her grin answered his. “Oh yes. Now it really does feel right.”

“Good,” he replied, letting his hand slide around her arm so she could lean against his shoulder.

From behind, Gretchen Janeway bustled into the room. “Katie, I’ve got everything ready for later and Martha will be here any minute....”

“That’s fine, Mom, you go.”

“Are you sure, dear? Because I could stay….” Gretchen’s tone held an anxious note.

Kathryn motioned toward the door. “Mom. Go.”

Her mother smiled. “All right, see you later.”

A few minutes later, they could hear the sound of a hover car roaring to a stop in the driveway followed by the sound of the front door closing.

Kathryn turned back to the window, looking out once more before she abruptly moved away. “You know, I’d like to go out for a bit. Feel like a walk?”

Chakotay stared at her. “You really want to walk in that? It’s cold!”

“It’s not that bad, only minus 10 or so. We can bundle up. Come on, I’m getting dopey in here. I need some fresh air.”

“Okay,” he sighed resignedly, recognizing the familiar signs of restlessness. Kathryn never could sit still for too long.

Smiling happily, she patted his arm then trotted out to the hall closet where an array of boots, scarves, gloves and woollen hats were soon littering the floor as she rooted through the contents. 

“Here you go,” she announced, triumphantly holding a heavy coat in one hand and a pair of tall boots in the other. “These were my dad’s. I’m surprised they’re still here but you’re about the same size so they should fit you.”

Diving back into the closet, she soon reappeared with another smaller coat and boots. “Oh good, Mom didn’t throw these out either. Of course, she rarely throws out anything. I’ll show you the attic sometime – it’s stuffed full with everything under the sun you could imagine.”

“Well, in this case, it would seem to be a good thing,” he replied, as he took the coat from her.

As soon as they were both wrapped up against the cold, Kathryn led the way to the door. “Nothing like a brisk walk to get the brain working properly,” she told him as they went down the steps to the driveway.

“Do you know where we’re going?” asked Chakotay.

Her reply was a shrug. “I thought we might head out across the fields. The snow isn’t as deep there because the wind blows it off.”

“Fine with me. Just don’t get us lost.”

“Chakotay!” she retorted. “I grew up here. I know every bit of the area around here for several kilometers.”

“An area where you haven’t been in over seven years,” he reminded her but she ignored him and led the way behind the barn and into a barren white landscape, the only sound the crunch of their boots.

The land was rolling, he realized, as they climbed a shallow grade, something he hadn’t noticed when they’d first arrived.

His legs were beginning to ache a bit and his lungs starting to burn; he had to acknowledge that he did need the exercise. Worn out after sitting in long debriefings each day, he’d had no energy afterwards to go to the gym for a workout. The result was that over the last few weeks since they’d arrived on Earth, he had become quite out of shape. 

Kathryn, he noticed, was getting ahead of him and he hurried to catch up. As he reached her side at the top of the rise, she stopped, her eyes focused on a pool of light in the broad valley below. 

“Listen,” she whispered.

As his breathing slowed, he began to hear the faint sounds of bells pealing and voices singing, floating across the fields. “Where is it coming from?” he asked when he couldn’t pinpoint the location.

In answer, she pointed at the light. “There’s a church down there. It’s the Christmas Eve service.”

“Where your mom went?”

“Yes.”

They continued to stand silently, listening intently to the music drifting towards them in the night air. 

“It’s beautiful,” murmured Chakotay. “Why don’t we go down there?”

Kathryn glanced at him. “Do you want to?”

“Yes, I do.”

“All right.” 

As she led the way down the hill, she told him how, as a little girl, she had always gone to the church with her family on Christmas Eve. “But as I got older,” she continued, “I began to question the whole concept of religion and the idea of believing in a supreme being. So, I stopped going. But sometimes, not every year but now and then, I would come out across the fields to listen to the music.” She looked a little abashed.

“And now?” asked Chakotay. “Is that what you wanted to do tonight?”

“Yes.”

Reaching out, he grasped her arm to halt her. “Kathryn, we don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to.”

She gazed up into his warm eyes. “Actually, I think I do. Seven years out there has changed my mind about a lot of things and one of those is that there are no absolutes in the universe. Somehow, against all odds, we got home. Maybe we had divine help, maybe not, but,” she shrugged, “on the off-chance that we did, I think I’d like to say thank you.” 

“Well then, let’s go.” And, taking firm hold of her hand, he started to hurry down the rest of the way.

As they reached the flattened area in front of the church, they were relieved to see a few stragglers still coming up the road. 

“Oh good,” murmured Kathryn, “we’re not the last ones.”

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, they slipped inside to find a small church absolutely packed with people, every pew as full as it could hold. Children wandered up and down the aisle as the choir began to sing once more.

Alerted by the sound of the door, an older man approached them, his face wreathed in smiles. 

“Katie Janeway! It’s so good to see you. Welcome home,” he whispered.

Kathryn hugged him briefly. “Thank you, it’s good to be home.” She glanced about. “It seems pretty full.”

“Indeed, you’ll have to stand,” he replied, handing them each a program “but it’s not a long service so I don’t think you’ll find it too arduous.” 

At that moment, the door opened again and he hurried off to greet the newcomers.

“That’s one of our local farmers,” murmured Kathryn, “he has the place two over from us. I’ve known him all my life.”

Chakotay nodded as he looked around, taking it all in. 

It was a lovely old church, he thought, wood construction, the pews and pulpit gleaming with varnish, no doubt layers of it. From several great beams overhead hung lights encased in heavy glass fixtures with more lights spaced evenly along the walls. Above each of these were seasonal decorations – fir boughs intertwined with bits of holly, candles (artificial, he was relieved to note) ensconced among them. Lengths of greenery tied together with string were draped around the pulpit and down the sides of the choir stalls while large red bows adorned the end of each pew. The effect was almost magical, the light reflecting off the highly varnished wood, the sound of the choir in full voice filling the space, enveloping them in the ancient hymn. 

_‘Gloria in excelsis deo’,_ they sang and glorious it was, the music wrapping them round as the congregation all sang lustily.

Unexpectedly, Chakotay felt his heart expand with joy, a feeling he could not have put in words but which left him uplifted in a way he would never have expected, here in a church. 

His face creased in a soft smile, he watched as the children presented a short Nativity play, the older ones acting out the parts of Mary and Joseph, while the younger ones flanked them, the boys dressed as shepherds, the girls as angels. Along with many in the congregation, he laughed out loud at the smallest angel, whose wings were almost bigger than she was, and the tiniest shepherd, straggling behind the bigger boys but striding along as best he could, determined to keep up when they all paraded up the aisle.

Glancing down at Kathryn, he caught her wiping her eyes surreptitiously; silently, he reached over and squeezed her hand for a moment before returning his attention to the proceedings.

*****

All too soon, so it seemed, the service came to an end and the minister lifted his arms in a final blessing. “Go forth into the night, and may peace and goodwill come to you all.” Arms still raised, his eyes fell on Kathryn. “And to our long-lost sheep, may I add a heartfelt ‘Welcome Home’.”

At his words, the crowd turned around to see who he was talking about, and there was an audible gasp as many recognized the pair standing at the back of the church.

“Why, it’s Katie!” exclaimed more than one, “Katie Janeway!”

“Glad you’re home, Katie,” called a voice from near the front.

Beside him, Chakotay felt Kathryn lean on him and, when he looked down, saw she was smiling but at the same time trying very hard not to cry. “You’re allowed to let go, you know,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be brave anymore.”

She gave him a somewhat sheepish smile but by then, the minister had reached them and was holding out his hands. 

“I am so very glad to see you, Katie,” he told her, adding “and who is this?” 

“My best friend, Chakotay,” Kathryn replied. “May I introduce Reverend Peter Hawthorne?”

Chakotay held out his hand and Reverend Hawthorne shook it heartily. “Welcome to our church, Mr. Chakotay. I am so pleased you came.”

“Thank you,” was all Chakotay managed to get out before they were both surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers, all anxious to greet them and welcome them home. 

By the time Gretchen and her sister-in-law, Martha, were able to reach them, over ten minutes had passed.

“Katie, honey!” chortled Martha, “I told your mother you’d come but she didn’t believe me.”

“Martha, you said no such thing!” retorted Gretchen, her eyes smiling. “Did you enjoy it? You haven’t come in so long I must admit I didn’t even think to ask if you wanted to.”

“A few hours ago, you would have been right,” answered Kathryn as they began to walk outside, “but as we crossed the fields and I could hear the music, I knew tonight I wanted to be here. And yes, I did enjoy it.” Her eyes drifted to Chakotay. “I think you did too, didn’t you?”

“I did indeed,” he nodded. “I understand it was once a family tradition and I hope it will become one again.”

As they reached the hovercar, Martha opened the door. “Are you coming back with us? There’s room.”

But Kathryn shook her head. “I’d like to walk back,” she said, with a look at Chakotay. “All right?”

“Absolutely,” he answered, glancing up at the sky. “It’s a night of wonder, and I’m not ready to go in just yet.”

“I’ll have some hot chocolate ready when you get home,” smiled Gretchen, climbing into the car. “Enjoy your walk.”

The two grinned at her before setting off across the parking lot, hands tightly gripped together.

“Well, Gretchen,” declared Martha, starting the engine. “I would say that looks promising, wouldn’t you?”

“Very promising indeed,” replied her sister-in-law with a contented smile.


End file.
